


Parallels

by easternepiphany



Category: Community
Genre: F/M, Paintball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easternepiphany/pseuds/easternepiphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 2012 Annual Spring Fling is film noir themed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallels

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime mid-season three, obviously; I'm thinking between Pillows and Blankets and Basic Lupine Urology. Please excuse my lack of knowledge regarding film noir as well as the overabundance of the word _splat_. Also, there's one tiny season four spoiler in here, but if you don't know what it is, you won't catch it AND you'll just pretend it's part of the universe here, so no big :)

The 2012 Annual Spring Fling is film noir themed and Abed ducks behind a bush in front of the library in his second favorite paintball costume yet.

(There’s no beating Han Solo. Season one was kind of thrown together, but he’s gotten used to being more prepared at Greendale. Half of his wardrobe is hidden behind the couch in the study room.)

There was supposed to be a movie marathon in the auditorium but for some reason the dean decided that would be held after the paintball game was over. As if he didn’t remember the last two years. Abed’s still a little disappointed; he’d been working on his Bogart voice for a week now.

But the dean is already out, although maybe he wasn’t even playing to begin with. Pierce took him down in the cafeteria, guns blazing, guns that seemed kind of illegal for a community college paintball game. Abed tried to save Dean Pelton, but no, it was all over and all done. Abed hit Pierce right in the forehead and he left the room yelling about cheating and suing the school. That was only the first half hour.

It’s quiet, now almost half a day into the game, and the usual suspects have already been eliminated. Troy took out the chess club and Shirley and Jeff teamed up to eliminate the new glee club. Annie got the cheerleaders and Garrett and Fat Neil got each other in a bizarre battle over Vicki’s affections.

That was all hours ago, though, and Abed hasn’t seen anyone from study group since Chang tried and failed to take over the Spanish wing. In fact, the only person he has seen is Troy’s janitor friend, Jerry, who pulled into the parking lot, saw what was going on, and immediately drove away. It must really suck to be a non-student at Greendale, Abed thinks.

Muffled footsteps approach and Abed holds his breath, his finger squeezing the trigger of his gun. The library door creaks open and Abed shoots at a pair of black high-heels. They jump out of the way at the last minute, orange paint splattered where they stood seconds before.

“Who’s there?”

Annie.

Abed pops up, his knees creaking from being bent for so long. “It’s just me. I didn’t know you were you.”

The tension on Annie’s face breaks and she smiles. “Abed! Are we the only two left? I can’t find _anyone_!”

“I don’t know. I’ve been here for a while now and no one’s come by. Wanna team up and go investigate?”

“Sure!” She adjusts the black beret on her head and opens the library door.

Abed steps around the splat of orange paint on the sidewalk. He can still remember how it tastes, how it stuck in his mouth for days no matter how many times he brushed his teeth and gargled with Listerine. Annie’s dress hugs her hips too tightly. He hasn’t even invented a character for himself yet. This whole thing is sloppy, as if the writers threw it together for fan appeasement.

He follows Annie into the library, trying his hardest to ignore every bit of orange paint on the walls. There’re plenty of other colors to concentrate on.

\---

“You know, I think this might be considered cheating,” Troy says around a mouthful of brownie.

“The rush you get from sugar is natural,” Shirley chirps. “It’s better than knocking back those disgusting energy drinks.”

Troy shakes his head. “No, I meant camping out in the van.”

Jeff looks up from his phone and shrugs. “Not our fault people are too dumb to think of doing this first.”

“Yeah,” Britta agrees from the passenger seat. “Besides, I don’t know if you guys have realized this, but I’m _really good_ at paintball. I’m doing those chumps in there a favor by laying low.”

Everyone groans and rolls their eyes.

“If you remember correctly, Boasting Betty, you came in third both years. That just makes you slightly better than some of these average loons and only middle of the road as far as the study group is concerned.” Jeff’s tie hangs loose around his neck. Britta thinks that makes him look even douchier than the three piece suit all done up had.

“Whatever. I kicked your ass last year _and_ you would have totally been dead the first time if I hadn’t sacrificed myself for you. You owe me.”

“Owe you! I could have taken Chang out no problem. You volunteered!”

“Guys,” Troy says, pointing to the windshield.

“I was being a good friend, which is worth a million points,” Britta says.

“I gave the prize to Shirley, didn’t I?” Jeff counters. “So doesn’t that give _me_ a million points, too? Making us even until we factor in that I was the last man standing?”

“Guys,” Shirley says, pointing to the windshield.

“Look, dude, just because your little Grinch heart grew three sizes that day does not mean you’re a better friend than I am. I was always going to give the prize to Shirley. And last year I bought a whole round of all-you-can-eat pancakes at Denny’s and didn’t even complain when that set me back on rent.”

“Saint Britta, sacrifices all for four dollar pancakes.”

“GUYS!” Troy and Shirley yell in unison.

“Hmm?” Britta asks, shifting in her seat to look at Shirley behind the wheel.

Troy shoves the last of his brownie in his mouth and points his gun to the windshield. Leonard and the rest of the Hipsters have spotted them sitting in the van. They’re huddled on the security cart, heading toward them, guns out and mean looks on their faces.

“I hate Leonard,” Jeff says.

Shirley turns the key in the ignition and throws the van into drive. “As long as we don’t technically leave campus, we’ll be good. That cart doesn’t drive that fast and my baby here has survived road trips to my mother’s with three kids. Buckle up, everyone.”

She jams on the gas and Britta, Jeff, and Troy are all thrown forward. Brownies fly everywhere and Jeff smacks his head on the back of Britta’s seat. The Hipsters follow, speeding much quicker than Britta had thought the cart could move, and Shirley cuts the wheel to the left and the right intermittently, tossing her passengers around the van. Britta manages to get her seatbelt on as Shirley pulls up in front of the library and then there are shots.

The security cart stops behind them and through the rearview mirror Britta sees orange and pink paint all over the front.

“Look!” Troy shouts, pointing again.

Dashing down toward the van are Abed and Annie, who have successfully shot Leonard and all his cronies. Jeff slides the back door open and they climb in, breathing heavily.

“We thought you were all dead!” Annie exclaims, throwing her arms around Troy’s neck.

“We’ve been hiding out in the van,” Shirley says with a big smile. “Are we the last six?”

Abed checks his paintball supply and loads a green cartridge into his gun. “Starburns and some other people are in the dean’s office. The library is clear, though. We can move to the study room and barricade ourselves in there. There’s more ammo and some food and water.”

“I have brownies!” Shirley pulls the giant ziplock bag out of her purse.

\---

In the study room, they push the couches in front of the doors and huddle in a circle on the floor.

“Okay, this is what I think we should do,” Troy says. “If they’re in the dean’s office, we stand outside and shoot through the window. Then, half of us will be out in the hallway to finish them off. _Or_ we can rig the plumbing again and set off the sprinklers.”

Annie blushes and Jeff and Britta exchange a glance.

“What was that look for?” Britta asks.

“What look?" 

“That hair-twirling squirmy blush look.” Britta dips her chin and flutters her eyelashes a little bit.

Annie scoffs and shakes her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Annie and I kissed during paintball last year,” Abed blurts out.

“What!” Jeff, Britta, Troy, and Shirley exclaim in unison.

Annie bites her lip. “The context demanded it, right, Abed?” She says it with a bit more bite than with which she usually talks to Abed, but she’s been sort of on edge ever since the dean announced another paintball game would be taking place.

Abed looks over at her and cocks his head to the side. She can’t read his expression—she never can, really—but he holds her gaze for a minute while the other four shout about them keeping it a secret for all this time.

“ _Star Wars_ ,” Abed says finally, looking away from Annie. “The context was a _Star Wars_ theme.”

“I _live_ with you guys!” Troy whines. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I tell you everything.” He brings his fist up to his mouth and swallows a sob. “ _Everything._ ”

Shirley eyes Annie and Abed disapprovingly and raises one eyebrow. “I’m praying for you three sinners living under that foul roof.”

Jeff tucks away his phone, which he’s been messing with since he became disinterested in the conversation about Abed and Annie. “Are we going to stop talking about who kissed who like a bunch of preteens and figure out how we’re going to win this thing?”

Troy moves his lips as if talking to himself and counts something on his fingers. “The five of us are _gross_ ,” he says, eyes wide.

“Ew!” Annie says, picking up on his train of thought.

“Any day now,” Shirley mutters as she pulls her gun out and stands up.

“Okay, let’s split up. I _don’t_ want to be with Han and Leia over there, and you know what else? I don’t want to team up with Jeff and Britta because they hooked up during paintball, too. I’m done with this. Come on, Shirley, let’s win this for the black folks,” Troy says. He stands up and puts his arm around Shirley.

“We did not hook up!” Annie protests. “It was one kiss!”

“Can’t hear you!” Troy sings. He moves the couch from the front door. “Let’s go.”

Britta stands up, too. “Wait! What’s the plan?”

Troy opens the door. “Figure it out. Try not to soil the table again.”

Shirley shrugs and follows him out with a wave.

“What just happened?” Jeff asks. He looks to Britta who looks to Abed who looks to Annie.

“Troy’s never made out with someone during paintball,” Abed deadpans.

\---

“Are you gonna be weird now?”

Jeff, who had been looking over his shoulder for enemies, whips his head to face forward, where Britta’s standing in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

“About Abed and Annie. Are you gonna be weird now that you found out they kissed? Are you going to do your whole “I care about you, kid” thing with her again?”

“What thing?”

Britta sighs, exasperated. “ _You’re the best, kiddo_ ,” she says, dropping her voice an octave. “ _This is our Annie._ And then you’re going to look at her all schmoopy from across the room. It’s getting kind of old.”

They stop in front of the Anthropology classroom. “You jealous?”

“No.” Britta pushes the door open with the toe of her shoe. “I think they’d be cute together. You saw Annie’s face in there. She likes him. Don’t mess it up.”

“Troy’s jealous. I thought he was into you.”

“Troy’s not jealous,” Britta says. She flips a chair right-side-up. “He just feels left out. If his roommates get together, then he’s the third wheel. He’s already the point on the pentagon.”

“What?”

“You know. The five of us. You and I used to hook up, you like Annie, Annie likes Abed, Troy likes me. He’s potentially gotten the least action of the five of us, depending on exactly what happened between Annie and Abed.”

Jeff stops at the professor’s desk and hops up to perch on the edge. “You kissed Troy?”

“Once. It wasn’t during paintball, though. And I think that’s the thing that bugs him the most. Less adrenaline. Less of a sense of immediacy.”

“How do you know all this?”

Britta scoffs. “Duh-doy, Jeff. I’m a _psych major_. Also I’m a girl and I pay attention to these things.”

Jeff sifts idly through a stack of papers on the desk. “Are you going to kiss Troy today? Maybe after you ditch me as your teammate and you two win together?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “Troy’s really nice to me. Well, he is now, anyway.”

Jeff doesn’t reply and after a minute he pushes himself off the desk and heads toward the door. “Let’s go. There’s nothing in here.”

\---

_LONG LIVE CHANG_ says the far wall in the cafeteria. It’s pretty impressive, really, because it seems to be written in blue paintballs. Someone had good aim and a lot of time to kill. It was probably Chang himself, Abed thinks.

Annie is silent beside him, hasn’t really spoken since they left the study room. He thinks she might be mad at him for spilling the beans on their Paintball 2011 kiss, but aside from Troy crying (which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be fair) there didn’t seem to be a lot of fallout. Jeff might eventually get a complex, but since he gets complexes about virtually everything, Abed thinks he’ll get over it relatively quickly.

Perhaps she just didn’t want anyone to know. Maybe she was ashamed. Or maybe it was one of those things that’s supposed to be private between two people and he just didn’t pick up on it. That happens sometimes.

“I saw the failed cafeteria takeover,” Abed says. “I was hiding in the kitchen, back by the fryers. Chang’s preteen army was wiped out. I’m not sure why they were even here. But I don’t remember seeing him with any paint on his clothes.”

Annie _hmmm_ s and seems to spend a lot of time concentrating on the pattern of paint on the floor. Abed follows her eyes and among the blue and green and pink he sees a splat of orange and it sticks out as if it were brighter than the rest. As if the other colors are old and faded and from years past, while the orange is fresh. He remembers how it felt in his nose.

“So maybe he’s the big bad of this game. That’s a rerun, though, we already did that.”

She doesn’t answer.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why did you kiss me?”

This question catches Abed off guard. They haven’t acknowledged kissing at all, and it’s been almost a year. When Abed was helping Annie move into their apartment, he found Starburns’s vest wrapped up in a garment bag, tucked in the back of Annie’s closet. He had been surprised that she kept it, more surprised that she seemed to regard it as something that warranted such care, because Annie is always careful with things that are important to her. It might make sense to Abed for Annie to keep the vest if it had belonged to Jeff.

Abed opens his mouth to respond but Annie cuts him off.

“And don’t say it was because the context demanded it. Because that’s crap. You don’t kiss friends because of _context_.”

He adjusts his hat and swallows. He’s not entirely sure what to say, mostly because he has a hard time articulating to himself why he chose Annie to be his Leia as opposed to Britta or Shirley or even do a genderbend and cast Troy.

But he doesn’t have to answer because there are footsteps behind her. They both raise their guns, waiting. Abed’s hand tightens around the gun and the footsteps grow closer then stop. Slowly, he steps in front of Annie and peeks out into the hallway. No one’s there.

The sound of a gun clanking to the floor and a muffled scream from behind him makes Abed spin around and Starburns is holding one hand over Annie’s mouth, a paintball gun to her head in the other.

\---

“I just don’t understand!” Troy wails. “I can’t take any more secret relationships in this group!”

“There, there.” Shirley pats him on the shoulder and rolls her eyes. She definitely should have known better than to come to school during a Spring Fling day. She could be home in her nightgown right now watching _Forensic Files_ instead of waiting for Magnitude to leave the bathroom so she could shoot him with a paintball gun.

\---

When Jeff and Britta make it to the dean’s office, it’s empty. There’s no sign of a struggle aside from the paint everywhere, but it doesn’t look like Abed and Annie or Troy and Shirley took Starburns down and won the game.

“What do we do now?” Britta asks.

Jeff shrugs. “Study room? I think there’s more brownies in there.” Britta shoots him a look and he shrugs. “What? They’re good.”

They keep their guns out on the way back to the library, even though the school seems completely silent. Britta’s a little disappointed, to be honest, because the most paintball action she’s gotten was braving Shirley’s driving while being chased by a golf cart full of old people. It’s nothing like the last two years.

Jeff pushes the couch back in front of the door just in case and Britta flops down on it when he’s finished, kicking her heels off and curling her legs up underneath her. She’s getting tired of wearing this stupid flapper dress.

“This is a lame paintball game,” Jeff says, taking a seat next to her.

She nods in agreement and checks the ammo in her gun for something to do. “Are you going to keep the prize if you win it this year?”

“Three whole free credits? You bet your ass I am,” he says. He pauses. “I have to tell you something.”

“You’re gay?”

He shoots her a look. “I’m serious. I signed up to take classes over the summer semester so I can graduate early. If I get three more credits that’s just one less class I have to take and I can graduate in December.”

“Oh. You’re not going to graduate with us?” And it’s stupid and childish, but Britta truly believed that all seven of them would graduate together, on the football field on a shining May day, take goofy pictures in caps and gowns. She thinks of Jeff’s empty seat at the study room table next spring, imagines looking to her left and seeing no one. It makes her irrationally sad and she’s angry at herself for getting so attached to him, to them, because she had to know that eventually, it would all be over.

“I found out I have to re-take the bar exam, and I want to do well. I want to do it all legit this time, everything. I haven’t told anyone else, so keep it quiet, okay? I know they’re not going to react very well at all.”

Britta nods but doesn’t meet his eyes. He said it himself, at the beginning of the year, that they didn’t need a class or school to stay friends. That’s what adults do. Adults don’t take biology class together, they meet for coffee and have brunch on the weekends. Britta is the exact middle, age-wise, of the study group, but suddenly she feels like the youngest.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. I’m not going anywhere. I just won’t be hanging around this hellhole anymore. I told you because you’re surprisingly the most understanding about stuff like this.”

“I know.”

“So don’t get mad at me or shoot me so I’m out and you win and steal my three credits so you can sabotage my plans.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jeff sighs. “Don’t make me shoot you first.”

Britta turns to look at him. “You won’t,” she challenges.

“Come here,” he says.

She raises her eyebrow but scoots a little closer. He leans in forward and brushes his lips against hers.

“Keeping up tradition,” he says lowly.

“It’d be pretty crazy if I shot you right now, huh?”

He laughs and goes in for another kiss.

\---

“Let the lady go, see?” Abed says, his voice curling around the clipped tones of his noir accent. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret, Starburns.”

“Dude, my name is Alex,” Starburns says, rolling his eyes.

Annie struggles under his grip and the way a wrinkle appears between her eyebrows lets Abed know that Starburns is still using that weird crystal instead of deodorant.

“Look, I’m tired of you and your stupid study group always winning at paintball. Time to give it up, weirdo, or else boobs here gets it.”

Abed keeps his gun aimed at Starburns’s head and he gives the slightest hint of a nod without looking at Annie. He watches out of the corner of her eye as she slowly brings her leg up. Suddenly, with a grunt, she slams her heel down on Starburns’s foot, the spike of her shoe driving into his toes. He yelps and jumps back, slackening his grip on Annie enough for her to break free.

Starburns shoots blindly, almost hitting Abed in the shoulder. Annie grabs his hand and they run, shooting behind them as Starburns recovers and chases after them.

They run out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. “I can’t run for long in these shoes,” Annie pants. Her hand is still warm curled around Abed’s.

He spots an open classroom up at the end of the hall. “I’m going to push you in there. Shut the door behind you and I’ll finish him off.”

“But…”

“No time to protest, darling. I’ll see you on the other side.” He gives her hand a final squeeze and shoves her toward the door. She manages not to fall, but slams the door and he hears a lock click into place.

Abed skids to a halt and Starburns, wheezing, almost trips over his own feet.

“Come on, man, what can I give you not to shoot me right now?”

“Nothing.” Abed pulls the trigger the same time Starburns does. Abed’s shot hits Starburns square in the chest, a green splat of paint blossoming over his heart. Starburns’s shot hits Abed in the arm. The paint is orange and warm, burning through his jacket and shirt and into his skin.

Starburns shakes his head in disgust. “Thanks a lot, jerk.” He turns around and walks away, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

The ending’s a little anti-climactic, but he kept Annie out of harm’s way, and in the end, that’s what the hero is supposed to do anyway.

\---

It’s almost dawn when Shirley yawns for the fifth or sixth time. “This is getting old,” she says, secretly meaning both the game and Troy’s whining over his friends keeping secrets from him.

“Troy, you don’t need those credits, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” She pulls out her gun and shoots Troy in the leg, then herself. “Come on, pumpkin, I’ll drive you home.”

Troy hangs his head in defeat, but Shirley promises more brownies and he follows her out to the van.

\---

Britta pulls the skirt of her dress down over her hips and slips her feet back into her shoes. “Déjà vu, huh?”

Jeff smirks as he buttons up his shirt. “Hey, we did it on the couch this time. Totally different.”

“Okay, look,” she says, sitting back down. “If you want to graduate early, then I say go for it. Good for you. I never thought I’d say this to you, but you deserve to get your life back together. I’m proud of you for doing it all above board.”

He reaches up and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Nice words from Britta Perry. It’s always shocking to hear.”

“I always say nice words,” she protests half-heartedly. “But I’m telling you now, if you’re not there in May when the rest of us graduate, you’re going to be in serious trouble. I don’t care how many white collar criminals you’re helping put back on the streets.”

He pulls back a little and looks down. “Well, now that you mention it, I was kind of thinking about…”

He’s interrupted by a clanging noise and they both jump and look around the room. Britta stands up and grabs her gun off the floor. There’s a thud and Britta whips her head around in time to see the grate come off the vent and Chang crawl out of the hole, a paintball gun in each hand.

“Ew, how long have you been there?” Jeff asks.

“Long enough to see the free show!” Chang says with a smirk. “Looking good, Winger!”

Britta makes a gagging sound and aims her gun at Chang. “Are you even a student anymore? How are you even playing?”

“Still technically enrolled, blondie. Just because I haven’t gone to a single class all semester and I’m flunking doesn’t mean I’m not a Greendale student. I don’t even care about the prize, I just want to take it away from Winger.”

“We’re doing this _again_?” Jeff asks. “And aren’t you supposed to be a security guard? Shouldn’t you be securing?”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Chang shouts, shooting at Britta, who’s closest to him.

His shots catch Britta off-guard and she watches, as if in slow-motion, as the paintballs come toward her. She can’t get her finger around the trigger quick enough but before she knows it, she’s being thrown to the side. She trips over the couch and falls on her face, her cheek pressed into the cushion. She hears a grunt and a sigh and when she looks up, Jeff and Chang are both on the ground, paint splattered on each of them.

“Wha—?” Britta says, trying to piece the last ten seconds together. She realizes what it means that Jeff threw her out of the way, that now he won’t get his credits, that now it’ll be up to her to win them for him. She’ll be helping him graduate early then.

She’ll be helping him leave them. Her.

“You’re a real ass, Winger,” Chang says from the floor.

Britta catches Jeff’s eye and nods as she stands up. She pushes the couch away from the door.

“Win it for me, will ya?” Jeff asks.

She leans down and kisses him. “We’ll see.”

\---

Abed knocks on the door. “Annie? Starburns is gone.”

She flings the door open and stares wide-eyed at the paint on his arm. “Abed! What happened?”

“Double homicide.”

Annie doesn’t take her eyes away from the orange splat. “What color are your bullets?”

“Green, why?”

“Mine are orange.” She points her gun toward her foot and shoots, paint staining the top of her shoe.

Abed looks at her, confused. “Why did you do that? You could have won.”

She smiles. “Wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t leave here covered in orange paint, at least a little. Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime, doll.” He tips his hat and lowers his voice back into his own. “Anytime.”

She stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. He kisses her back, as Abed this time, his mouth moving softly, not as confidently as Han’s and not as smoothly as Bogart’s. But when Annie pulls away, it’s with a giant smile on her face and she loops her arm through his.

“Let’s go home,” she says.

\---

Later, Dean Pelton presents Britta with a certificate for three free credits. He’s still wearing his dress and wig and as she does every time he’s dressed in women’s clothes, Britta wonders how his makeup always looks better than hers. But she smiles anyway as she takes the paper from him.

Only Jeff is still at the school to see Britta’s victory. He shakes his head and laughs as she makes a big deal about deciding whether or not to hand her prize over to him. “This will definitely get me out of that art requirement. I’ve never been good at drawing.”

“What I was trying to tell you before we were interrupted by a psycho crawling out of the vents,” Jeff says, “is that I was thinking of not going back into criminal law.”

“Huh?”

He smiles sheepishly. “Well, if you must know, I was looking into public defense.”

She’s pretty speechless when she hands over the credit certificate so she just kisses him instead.


End file.
